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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617973">Scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kfriedrice/pseuds/kfriedrice'>kfriedrice</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abuse, Angst, Child Abuse, Eating Disorders, Highschool AU, Homophobia, Human AU, M/M, Panic Attacks, Sad, Self-Harm, Soulmate AU, Suicide, Transphobia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:35:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>602</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25617973</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kfriedrice/pseuds/kfriedrice</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The marks that still stung on Virgil's wrists matched the ones on Roman's.<br/>The ink still hadn't dried on Roman's hand when fresh ink appeared on Virgil's.<br/>They were so close together.<br/>And yet so far apart.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h3> chapter one- virgil </h3>
<h3>
i hate myself.<br/>
i figured that should be clear. it's not because of the bullshit reasons most people say. it's not because i think i'm ugly, or fat, or the reasons that are mainly opinions. it's because i am legitimately a horrible person. i don't have any "good" qualities. i'm not smart, i'm not nice, i'm not creative, i'm not good at anything. instead, i'm rude, and i worry too much, i find problems but i am too lazy to solve them myself. i'm a selfish asshole who cares too much about himself and then blames society for his issues. even though everyone around me, including myself, knows that i act just like all the other people i complain about and blame. <br/>

everyone grows up hearing people say that everyone has a soulmate, someone who you will share everything with and that's why you share your scars with your soulmate. to represent that your soulmate will be with you throughout everything. but, what happens if you don't have a soulmate? what happens if you never find your soulmate? they may claim that everyone has a soulmate but there is no way they could know that. most people never find their soulmate. what if those are the people who don't have soulmates? random marks may appear on them sometimes but, for all, we know that could be from something you did without realizing it or remember doing it. there are people like me who don't deserve to have soulmates. people who other people wouldn't like even a bit, the type of person who doesn't have any good qualities.<br/>
on first day number thirteen, i walked to school. not because our house was close, but because i didn't have a car yet and nobody was around to take me. i could've taken the bus, but there would have been too many people causing me to most likely have a panic attack and i did not want to take that chance. i left after making sure that i had all the supplies i needed. i pulled my headphones over my ears and stepped out of my house my hands shaking inside of my hoodie pockets. <br/>

i walked into school as the first note of welcome to the black parade played in my ears and felt the air being punched out of my lungs. and it wasn't because i had gotten g-noted, regardless of how painful that is. it was because of how many people there were. it was as though the reality of the situation had hit me, regardless of how many times i had faced this same reality. regardless of how many times i would be faced with the same people, in the same school every single year that the newest round of hell would begin. <br/>

i navigate the dangerous halls focusing my eyes on the ground until i got to my locker. where i was greeted by the only person who i would even call close to a friend, remy. "hey bitch," they greeted me not looking up from what was most likely instagram.  <br/>
"hi..." i respond as i grabbed the things i'll need for first hour out of my bag. <br/>

"are you ready for the newest and final addition of hell?" remy asked turning off their phone and shoving it in their pocket. <br/>

"as ready as i'll ever be," i said as we begin walking down the hall. <br/>

"where's danny?" remy asked as we turned left. i wasn't quite sure where they were going, but i followed regardless. i shrugged when we heard a voice from behind. <br/>

"you called?"</h3>
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